


The Missing Librarian

by Evenmoor



Series: Methos, Master of the Force [3]
Category: Highlander - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Past Character Death, Post-Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, Slavery, Trolling, Young Anakin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 17:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10392192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evenmoor/pseuds/Evenmoor
Summary: Newly-knighted Obi-Wan Kenobi and his young padawan Anakin are dispatched to locate a missing Jedi Librarian on a distant world. Things... sort of devolve from there.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cyberbutterfly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberbutterfly/gifts).



> This work is dedicated to the exceptional **Cyberbutterfly** , without whose inspiration I would not have written this at all. If you have not read Cyberbutterfly's [An Immortal in Jedi Robes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7526761/chapters/17109703), I highly recommend it.

“Are all our missions gonna end with people shooting at us, Master Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked in an aggrieved tone.

“Not… _all_ our missions!” Obi-Wan replied, blocking a blaster bolt that came perilously close to his head. He didn’t blame the boy for his feelings, though he definitely was not going to reveal that he had a bad feeling about the mission from the moment Master Yoda had summoned him to the Council chambers.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan rubbed at his beard. He really did think that it lent an air of gravitas to him. No longer the padawan, but a full-fledged Jedi Knight, with a student of his own.

Not that being called to the Council chambers felt any less nerve-wracking now that he was a Knight. And Master Qui-Gon wasn’t here to--

A stab of grief shot through him. He still expected Qui-Gon’s tall, imposing form to appear around a corner, his deep voice correcting him on a kata.

He took a long moment to compose himself. Qui-Gon was one with the Force now.

When he entered the Council chambers, only Mace Windu and Yoda awaited him.

“Knight Kenobi,” Windu greeted him formally.

“Master Windu, Master Yoda.” Obi-Wan bowed respectfully to the Councilors.

“How fares your student? I hear he is progressing well despite his… late start,” the Korun master inquired diplomatically. Nevermind the fact that Master Windu had been initially opposed to Anakin’s training, while Obi-Wan never understood their focused concerns about the boy’s _age_.

“The change has been difficult for Anakin emotionally,” Obi-Wan noted. Who was he kidding? It had been difficult for _all_ of them. “But he _is_ thriving in spite of it. And he is well ahead of his age group in both piloting and cybernetics. Though I sense, Masters, that you did not summon me here to discuss my apprentice.”

Windu shared a glance with Yoda. Something unreadable passed between them.

“We have a mission for you. After your encounter with the Sith on Naboo, the Council deemed it wise to account for all of the Jedi who have been away from the Temple on long-term assignments, particularly in the Outer Rim.” Master Windu paused. Something was _definitely_ bothering him, but Force only knew what. “One of those Jedi, a Librarian, has not responded to our attempts to contact him. Your mission is to locate him and bring him back to the Temple.”

Obi-Wan stroked his beard thoughtfully.

“There are many who could do this. Master Fisto, for instance. Why me?”

“A friend of old, he was, to Master Qui-Gon,” Yoda said, speaking for the first time. It was unusual for him to sound so… subdued. “Listen to you, for _his_ sake, he may.”

“‘Listen to me’? Why _wouldn’t_ he listen to me?” That made no sense whatsoever. Then again, if this librarian were a friend of Qui-Gon, maybe he was being problematic just for the sake of annoying the Council.

“The man is contrary and difficult,” Master Windu griped, probably a bit more harshly than he realized, and pretty much confirming Obi-Wan’s suspicions.

Yoda seemed amused by his fellow Councilor’s annoyance.

“Like him, you do not. Like you, _he_ does not. Sacrifices, we _all_ must make.” The ancient Jedi Master turned back to Obi-Wan. “Seek, you must, Ben-Ghi Ness.”

 

* * *

 

“A Jedi Master lives _here_?” Anakin asked in disbelief, glancing at the rather unimpressive structure on a less-than-savory street on a definitely disreputable planet to which their search had led them.

“Apparently so,” Obi-Wan replied dryly. “Stay close to me, little brother. This place isn’t exactly what you’d call _civilized_.”

“You do remember that I’m from Tatooine, right?” his padawan asked impudently. “Really, I’m just glad there’s no sand here.”

No, no sand, just muck. Someone had built this Force-forsaken place in the middle of what might as well have been a swamp. The humidity in the air alone was enough to make Obi-Wan’s hair and robes stick to his body. He did his best to put up a dignified front, but he could only do so much. He gave up and just went to the door and knocked.

Silence.

Obi-Wan frowned. Surely the man was not ignoring him.

“Master Ness?” he said aloud. Still nothing. “I’ve come from the Council. We tried to contact you.”

“Maybe he’s taking a nap,” Anakin suggested.

Obi-Wan glared at the closed door in front of him. He could sense the presence of the other man inside through the Force, all spikes and angles, and it was, quite frankly, starting to annoy him.

“Oh, no, he’s not,” he informed his padawan succinctly. He addressed the door again. “My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. Qui-Gon Jinn was my Master.”

The Force presence of the other man shifted somehow. Even as experienced as Obi-Wan was in the Force, having been raised in the Temple his whole life, he couldn’t really describe it. It paradoxically seemed both sharper and softer. But the door still remained stubbornly shut.

Just as Obi-Wan opened his mouth again, the door slid open. Anakin smirked and slipped the multitool back onto his belt.

“That was not very polite, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, trying his best to sound stern and remonstrating.

“Well, he was rude first. And it’s sticky out here,” replied the young padawan entirely unrepentantly.

Obi-Wan shook his head, only half-hiding his smile, and stepped through the door. The interior of the house was deceptively spacious, and almost entirely bare. Several heavy-looking crates were stacked up, ready to be moved.

“Going somewhere, Master Ness?” Obi-Wan asked lightly.

Jedi Master Ben-Ghi Ness glared at the young Knight in clear annoyance. His long white hair was tied back in a tail that trailed over his shoulder, contrasting his very bright, deep-set blue eyes and gray-cast skin. Unlike Obi-Wan and Anakin, he was not wearing anything resembling the traditional attire of the Jedi Order, but rather native attire much more practical for living in the humid, swampy city. If he had a lightsaber, it was nowhere in sight.

“Well, I _was_ going somewhere. Then you showed up and announced to the galaxy _Look! A Jedi lives here! Please, everyone come shoot me now!_ ” The older man shook his head in disgust. His accent spoke far more of his time in the Outer Rim than an upbringing in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. “Does the term ‘laying low’ mean nothing to those walking barnacles on the Council?”

Anakin’s jaw dropped in shock at the openly and outrageously disrespectful manner in which the Master talked about the most wise and powerful Jedi in the galaxy.

“We tried to contact you, but you never responded. You can’t be surprised they sent someone in person to find you,” Obi-Wan retorted, neatly avoiding Ness’s verbal trap.

“I’ve spent the last decade or so surrounded by scum. Literally and figuratively. I was hoping to be gone by the time you showed up here. Unfortunately, life doesn’t always work out the way one hopes, does it?”

The uneasy feeling that had been growing in Obi-Wan’s gut practically started blossoming.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, just some smugglers who lost some rather valuable merchandise. They’re convinced I had something to do with it. You might have missed the aura of misdirection I’ve been using; Force-sensitives are completely immune to it. But now that you’ve called attention to me, it’s not exactly working anymore, is it? So in about fifteen seconds, this place is going to be a war zone.”

Anakin said something he _certainly_ didn’t learn at the Jedi Temple.

Ness, meanwhile, calmly picked up the blaster he had set out of sight on one of the crates and took cover.

“I suggest you and your padawan go in there.” He nodded to an open doorway leading further in. “I will join you momentarily.”

Obi-Wan was about to speak when the sudden warning of impending danger caused him to draw his lightsaber and block a blaster bolt that nearly hit his leg after passing through the closed front door.

“Anakin, go!” he ordered his apprentice even as Ness coolly returned fire through the closed door. A high-pitched shriek from outside heralded a hit. For a librarian (even a _Jedi_ Librarian), he was a remarkable shot. Then the battle began in earnest.

This was supposed to be an easy mission. Find a wayward librarian and bring him back to the Temple, not get into a firefight with angry smugglers, especially with Anakin in tow. The boy didn’t even have his own lightsaber yet!

“Are all our missions gonna end with people shooting at us, Master Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked in an aggrieved tone.

“Not… _all_ our missions!” Obi-Wan replied as he blocked yet another blaster bolt.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Master Ness snatch something out of the crate he was hiding behind. _Wait, was that…?!_

With a seemingly-careless expression on his face, the Jedi Master tossed a thermal detonator through the now-shambles of his front door. Obi-Wan barely had a moment to take cover himself before the explosion rocked the building.

“That’s not all of them, not by a long shot.” There was something rather _fey_ in Ness’s eyes, Obi-Wan saw. “There’s a hatch in the floor of the other room. It leads to a ship beneath us.”

“Beneath us?” Obi-Wan repeated in dazed confusion.

“This is a wetlands, not a swamp. There’s water beneath us. Why do you think I chose this house? The lovely view and the excellent school system?” He did not give Obi-Wan a chance to answer, grabbing another thermal detonator and his blaster and heading to the ruined door and the pile of bodies outside.

Obi-Wan started to follow, only for Master Ness to surprise him with a powerful Force push that threw the young Knight backwards through the inner doorway, hitting the far wall with enough force to knock the breath out of him.

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin knelt over him, only showing worry for the first time as Obi-Wan gasped for air. Through the ruined house, a wild series of blaster shots split the air, followed by one last explosion.

An eerie silence filled the air. Obi-Wan reached out with his senses, trying to find Master Ness with the Force. There was only emptiness and silence outside. Slowly and painfully, Obi-Wan clambered to his feet, grabbing his lightsaber from where it fell by the wall.

“Wait here, Anakin. I’m going to check on things outside.” At Anakin’s protest, Obi-Wan held up a hand. “I mean it, padawan. _Stay here_. I will be right back.”

Cautiously, he stepped towards the utter destruction that had once been the front of the house. The force of the second thermal detonator had been… impressive. There were bodies everywhere, most of them burned past the point of recognizing their species, let alone their identity. If Master Ness was among them, Obi-Wan had no hope of figuring out which one he was. And if he had been _holding_ the detonator when it blew, there probably wouldn’t be enough pieces large enough to test genetic material.

Just as he started to head back to Anakin, he felt a presence in the Force. Whirling around, he brought his lightsaber to bear… on a man covered in mud.

“Please don’t dismember me, Master Jedi,” drawled the man in an incongruous Core Worlds accent as crisp as Obi-Wan’s own.

“Who are you?” Obi-Wan demanded, not lowering his lightsaber an inch. This was not Master Ness. Even mud-covered as he was, his Force presence shone bright and clear, like a ray of sunlight breaking through the clouds.

“Me? Oh, I’m-”

“Master Methos! You’re alright!” came a high-pitched voice from the doorway behind Obi-Wan. A child’s voice, and not Anakin’s.

Five children surged past Obi-Wan, ignoring him, his lightsaber, and the charred corpses in the street to rush over to ‘Master Methos.’ Despite his muddy state, they all threw themselves on him, clutching him like burrs.

A Twi’lek, two humans, a Togruta, and a Nautolan, and not a one seeming older than ten Standard years. Methos’s teeth flashed white against the black mud that covered his face as he embraced the children.

“You told me to stay behind, so I decided to check out the ship that Master Ness told us about,” Anakin explained sheepishly. “They were inside.”

Obi-Wan glanced back at the mud-plastered man now kneeling to be at the children’s level. There was no telling how old he was under the muck, but he was certainly Force-sensitive. Though Obi-Wan had never heard of a “Methos” at the Temple before, as far as he could remember

“So… Master _Methos_ , is it?” Obi-Wan asked pointedly as he deactivated and slipped his lightsaber back onto his belt.

“Who, me?” The other man smirked. “Not officially ‘Master’ yet, technically speaking, unless something’s changed when I wasn’t looking. Ben-Ghi Ness was my teacher.”

He seemed entirely too flippant about the situation, Obi-Wan thought.

“You’re awfully calm about just losing your Master,” he replied. Memories of Qui-Gon’s expression as Maul’s saber pierced his chest…

“He’s one with the Force now. Is that not the Jedi way? No attachments?” Though Methos appeared to have no fewer than _five_ attachments of his own at the moment. “If you don’t believe me, ask Master Yoda. Anyway, we really should get going. Master Ness’s heroic sacrifice bought us some time, but if we don’t get out of here soon, they’re just going to bombard us from ships. They don’t take kindly to having their merchandise stolen.”

Methos glanced down significantly at the children clutching his muddy hands and clothing.

_Oh._

_Right._

“Well, then, let’s not allow Master Ness’s sacrifice be in vain,” Obi-Wan replied after a long moment.

“Come along, you midgets, it’s time to go!” Methos grinned brightly once more, and once more Obi-Wan got the feeling that there was much more about this man, Jedi or not, than met the eye.

They all proceeded back into the house, past all the destruction and debris. Amazingly, the crates were still in one piece, a true testament to their quality. Unlike the rest of the building.

“Go on, back to the ship!” The mud-covered maybe-Jedi urged the children, who hustled without complaint back into the other room and down a now-open trap door in the floor.

“You, too, Anakin. Just don’t touch anything in there!” ordered Obi-Wan.

Methos gave Obi-Wan a dubious look as soon as Anakin vanished down the hatch.

“We can have a heart-to-heart about everything later, Master Jedi, when we’re somewhere that’s _not here_!” With a slight gesture, Methos used the Force to levitate two of the crates and block the shattered doorway. “Those ones only have their precious blasters and thermal detonators, anyway. If they want to shoot their way through them, it’s fine by me.”

The last crate, however, he casually levitated down the barely-large-enough trap door, even as Obi-Wan stared in disbelief at the altogether frivolous use of the Force.

“So, you and Master Ness robbed these smugglers, but not just of slaves, but weapons?”

Methos shook out a hand, ridding it of some of the worst of the now-caking mud, revealing a pale, but clearly human or near-human, pinkish hue.

“And _books_ , too. You’d be surprised at the stuff some criminals have just laying around,” the man said smugly as he followed the crate down the hatch. Obi-Wan shook his head in utter astonishment before following him.

The vessel was exceedingly cramped, between Obi-Wan, Methos, Anakin, the five children, and the crate (plus two others already in the craft). Methos slid into the pilot’s seat and set to the controls with a will and the ease of experience.

“I trust the ship you arrived in is nearby? _Please_ don’t tell me that you took public transportation to get here. This vessel is only rated for atmospheric flight at best."

“Obi-Wan wouldn’t let me fly on the way here,” Anakin pouted.

“That is because your idea of ‘flying’ normally leaves me in search of an antiemetic, my young padawan,” Obi-Wan retorted archly. Anakin may be one of the best pilots he’d ever seen, but almost any of his insane acrobatic maneuvers would get him arrested in a heartbeat by local authorities if he weren’t a Jedi.

Fortunately, their passage to the ship was unhindered by any apparent pursuit by unhappy smugglers. Obi-Wan’s ship, in this case, wasn’t much larger than Methos’s small craft, but at least it would fit everyone (and had a ‘fresher!). And it could get them out of here and back to Coruscant. The children happily followed Methos inside and cooperated as he strapped them into the seats in the rear compartment.

Which turned out to be a good thing, because the smugglers caught up with them about a minute later and Obi-Wan had to take off in a hurry. He was pretty sure he may have accidentally slammed Methos into the ceiling with his evasive maneuvers.

“And you complained about the _boy_ flying?!” the man in question objected as he picked himself off the deck and managed to strap himself into a free seat.

“This is why I hate flying!” Obi-Wan complained. Every single time, without fail, it seemed that people started shooting at him. Fortunately, however much he hated flying, he was also quite good at it.

“Maybe you should let me do it!” Anakin suggested brightly from the copilot’s seat. “I’ve got the calculations for the jump to lightspeed.”

“Well done, little brother.” And with that, the stars streaked in front of them and they vanished into hyperspace, leaving that miserable planet behind for good. As soon as they made the jump, Methos made a beeline to the ‘fresher. It was too small for an actual shower, but even the simplest cleaning would be an improvement over his current state.

Indeed, when he emerged, his appearance had vastly improved. There wasn’t much to be done for the state of his clothes, but the man was now recognizably human, at least. A couple inches taller than Obi-Wan, of fairly slim build, with short dark hair framing hazel eyes and a prominent nose. And younger than Obi-Wan had thought, maybe only a few years his senior, at the most.

He subsequently spent much of the trip to Coruscant mother-henning the children, making sure each of them got a turn in the ‘fresher before, much to Obi-Wan’s surprise, singing them to sleep. Even Anakin was drifting off in the copilot’s seat as Methos’s voice gently rose and fell in a lilting language that had no meaning to Obi-Wan. He didn’t even have to use a Force suggestion to lull them into slumber, just a simple song.

A slight smile touching his lips almost despite himself, Obi-Wan settled into a meditative state as the journey continued.

When they reached Coruscant, Masters Yoda and Windu met them in the landing bay. As Methos roused the children, Obi-Wan wondered how he was going to explain that the mission went so… sideways.

Mace Windu certainly seemed surprised when the children piled out of the ship, happily chattering away with Anakin and followed by Obi-Wan and a quite frankly odiferous Methos.

“I trust you have a good explanation for this? Where’s Master Ness?” Windu asked pointedly.

“I’m afraid Ben-Ghi Ness sacrificed himself with a thermal detonator while saving us all from smugglers and slavers. It was a truly heroic ending,” Methos proclaimed, as if reciting the plot from a holo-vid drama. Obi-Wan winced internally at the bizarre discontinuity.

“Good, it is, that you have returned his apprentice, then.” If Obi-Wan didn’t know better, he would swear that the ancient and respected Jedi Master Yoda was smirking. Actually smirking! And at Methos!

“I take it you two do know each other, then,” he remarked with a tone as dry as the Tatooine desert.

“It seems like lifetimes since I’ve seen you, Master Yoda.” Methos actually inclined his head in respect towards the venerated Jedi leader.

“Too long, it has been. The Libraries have missed your hand, and the younglings your voice,” replied Master Yoda, his own voice softening.

Obi-Wan glanced at Mace Windu, but the Korun Master actually seemed just as mystified as he did at the exchange.

“Speaking of the Library, I found a few additions for Jocasta Nu’s collections. Is that enough of a peace offering, do you think?” Methos asked, with a smile just barely touching his lips.

“If, before you present them to her, clean yourself more thoroughly you do.” Yoda gestured pointedly with his gimmer stick at some of the crusted mud still stuck to Methos’s boots.

Obi-Wan had almost managed to forget the smell after being cooped up in the confined space with him for the trip back to Coruscant.

Mace Windu cleared his throat, as if to remind everyone that he was there and actually a part of the conversation.

“Yes, well, you should all clean yourselves up before giving your report to the Council. We’re all going to be very interested in finding out how the Librarian you were sent to retrieve ended up blowing himself up with a thermal detonator to save you from…”

“Smugglers and slavers,” Methos supplied helpfully.

“Yeah!” one of the children, the Togruta, agreed.

“They were bad guys. They wouldn’t let Zetti have enough water, and she was getting sick!” The tiny human boy protectively hugged the Nautolan in question. “Master Methos saved us! So don’t be mean to him!”

The other four all nodded, with the Twi’lek loudly concurring in her own language.

“I stand corrected,” Master Windu remarked, brows raised.

“Master Obi-Wan, can we find their families?” Anakin asked pleadingly. “Please? I know it won’t be easy, but shouldn’t we try?”

Suddenly, everyone was looking at Obi-Wan. Through a display of exceptional willpower, he managed to resist the urge to run screaming for the door in the face of all that unvarnished hope (from the children and Anakin) and curiosity (from the other Jedi).

“We’re Jedi, Anakin. Guardians of peace and justice. Of course we’ll try to find their families.”

“Yippee!” his padawan exclaimed with a remarkable lack of any expected Jedi dignity.

Obi-Wan caught a brief expression of approval on Methos’s face, but there was something else he felt through the Force. Sadness. For a bare moment, he sensed… like a steady gray rain on an equally-gray sea. Not turbulent and stormy, but profoundly deep, almost fathomless.

As they parted ways, and Obi-Wan and Anakin returned to their quarters in the Temple, the young Knight pondered how much what he saw of Methos was a facade. And why Master Yoda seemed more pleased to see Methos than upset over the loss of Master Ness.

Then again, this was likely going to end up being one of the grand mysteries of the universe.


End file.
